


Lie

by thedrunkenwerewolf



Series: Heirverse: Phase 2 (Can We Survive This?) [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Aizen being a complete idiot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Lies, Love, M/M, Marriage, Romance, Smut, chessboards, conflicting thoughts, hellish voice/monster, inner demon, story cross references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-23 08:06:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14328174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedrunkenwerewolf/pseuds/thedrunkenwerewolf
Summary: AiGin. Heirverse. Some backstory/context for 'Can We Survive This'. Aizen tries to convince himself he doesn't want, need or love Gin. Without much success. Angst, love, mild chessboards. Story cross references everywhere.





	Lie

**Author's Note:**

> quickly posting before bedtime.
> 
> Business: I own nothing but the heirverse, Cherry, flower dictionary, and the 'monster/hellish voice'.
> 
> Got a few people coming into the series from all over, so...
> 
> Warnings: Moderate Game/Heir spoilers. Please proceed with some caution, and an open mind.
> 
> Also. This... came out a lot sexier than intended but it works, so goes without saying nsfw for naughty stuff.
> 
> A/n: Some backstory for my other story Can We Survive This? And hopefully a little background on WHY Aizen does what he does. Though I still want to punch his lights out for all of it. Takes place approximately a decade before events in Cold Feet&Sanctuary. And bleeds nicely into cwst.
> 
> Though the Lie vs Sanc. comparisons to where these fools are is staggering and lovely. Much changes in a decade. I would know, having been writing the series that long :)
> 
> oh yeah and 3 guesses what my favourite scene in this is heh *is utter trash* ;)
> 
> Notes: Love with a touch of melancholy. AU. Written in 1st person Aizen's pov as if he is addressing Gin directly like in 'Can't Be in There'. General Heirverse tangle. Game/Heir echoes if you know where to look. Hellish voice being hellish. Mentions of Darkness infecting. Aizen being a complete. Fucking. Idiot. Mirror piece to "I Love".
> 
> There's also some really subtle Sanctuary mirrors I particularly enjoy with the "I don't want you, I don't need you, you don't matter." line beside the "I want you, I deeply need you, you're my sanctuary" lines.
> 
> Altight thats me. Enjoy the story. Quotes are from Circus's songs and Ganymede Lullaby's poetry - and she is on here and deviantart so go show her some love, please :)

_Looming and overwhelming guilt still lingers inside my soul_  
_unrelenting in its presence because I'm weak._  
_Feelings have overtaken my entire being to the point of being reckless._  
_I become a prisoner, a slave to them always._  
_Far more than I admit to, far too often to my chagrin, they control me  
_ _For I am a coward, too frightened and dismayed to stand up and face them._

_\- Ganymede Lullaby (Look)_

_..._

_I don't want you_  
I don't need you  
I'll forget you  
It doesn't matter  
I'll play along  
Writing our song  
We are perfect  
I love you

\- Circus-P (Lie)

**Lie**

I wake up to sunlight on my eyelids and blink myself awake. You are still fast asleep beside me, murmuring something about it being too early and how you don't wanna get up yet as you roll over and bury yourself in my duvet... our duvet. And I have to smile at you and stifle a laugh... until guilt wrenches at me. Because I can't take you with me where I'm going. The hollow world.

Not necessarily now, but soon.

My smile becomes rueful, my thoughts bitter. Because in a perfect world, I'd take you with me. In an even more perfect world, I could stay.

But I can't. I know I can't. For your own safety as much as mine. Because if they ever found out we were plotting together, it'd be the end of us. I wouldn't mind dying, but I couldn't take dragging you down with me, too. You're too good for that.

But still, I wonder. _Why can't things be perfect?_

I brush the thought away as I slip out of bed and into the bathroom. Still naked and sticky from the previous night. You wore me out, I remember, after I returned from a month long mission to the human world. You couldn't even wait to get inside before you pounced on me. To be fair though, neither could I. If my house weren't soundproofed, I'd pity our poor neighbours having to listen to me fucking you up a wall.

I run the tap and look in the mirror, a frown on my face despite the pleasant memory.

_Why can't it be perfect?_

But as I look into the eyes of my reflection, I don't see me. I see the monster. A different face. Different eyes. Yellow irises. Black sclera. Me and yet, not. The creature I sold my soul to for power. Like an idiot.

 _Because the world isn't perfect,_ the monster mocks. It's voice hellish, the lips in my reflection moving while my own stay closed.

_You and me, we had a deal, Sousuke. Vengeance and betrayal of the shinigami in exchange for power. I've held up my end, now it's your turn. You know I can easily kill the boy if you don't._

I try not to react to the threat. But it knows. It knows how much I want to stay with you, or take you with me, just to have some light in my life. How much I want to keep you alive.

_You love him._

I try not to flinch.

_Just remember I can make you do terrible things to the one you love. Dismembering, decapitating..._

I try to ignore the hellish voice inside my skull making threats on your life should I not comply with it. But it is hard. It says the word _love_ like a disease, a curse.

 _Our loves not even real._ I tell it. Though I don't know who I'm trying to convince. Me or it.

_It was dead from the start._

_Yeah_ , it grins back at me. _You keep telling yourself that, Sousuke._

This time, I do flinch. I should never have said those words to you.

. . .

By the time I am dressed and eating breakfast, the voice is silent, and you wander into the kitchen. Rubbing your eyes from sleep. Your pet fox Cherry trotting in after you. You are both still yawning. “Mornin' Sou...”

I have to smile. Honestly. You're so lazy. You'd sleep all day if I let you. If I didn't set an alarm and hide it so you were forced out of our bed just to turn it off I'd return from the office to find you still hibernating in bed.

You yawn and sit opposite me. And pick up the tea I left waiting for you. Like every day.

“Sleep well?”

“Did til someone's alarm went off. Found it in the wardrobe.” You frown, and I fight a smile. You're cute when you're angry. I decide to tease a little.

“Well you do need to get up for work you know.”

Your frown deepens and you drink your tea. Exuding displeasure with me. I smile at you and you try to fight an answering grin.

I will miss you when I go.

After a time, you set your mug down and succumb to your smile. And again I have to remind myself that _I don't want you. I don't need you. I'll forget you. You do not matter to me._ Even as I smile back.

Hopefully I can convince myself. Until then I'll play along. Pretend we are perfect.

I have to go in early for a meeting, but I still kiss you goodbye. Still I pretend we are perfect.

“I love you. Don't be too late in.”

You shoot me a grin. “I won't.”

Though we both know you will.

. . .

I smile to myself as I walk to work. Humming a tune. Thinking of you. And I have to catch myself.

No, this is all wrong. It's been decades. Why aren't you gone? Why am I still with you? Why are you still with me?

All I've done is toy with you. Since the day we met. All I'll do is shatter your heart when I leave this place. I know you're strong, but not strong enough to withstand that. All I'll do is get you hurt.

And yet... I sigh, because I just can't fight this. Fight _you_. Because you do make me happy. Life just... seems _better_ with you around. Worth living. Waking up beside you, I am whole. I am complete when I'm with you. I feel like a human being again when I'm with you. I don't know what I'd do without you.

But with the monster, the voice inside my skull plotting to harm you, I know I'll have to _find_ something to do without you.

. . .

Later, I watch you work. You really are enchanting, do you know? No, of course you don't. I don't think you really will, but you'll just have to take my word for it. I watch you sigh, bored as always, with the task I have assigned you. I see your focus wane away, and more and more often I catch you watching me with those gorgeous eyes of yours.

“Yer starin' a' me.” you accuse. The pot calling the kettle black.

“You should be working.” I counter. You smirk in answer.

“So should you.” Your grin widens. Ah, I know that grin. The one that promises mischief, moans... you on top of me in my chair or me on top of you on my desk. You're dangerous and insatiable, when boredom sets in. “But I can think a better uses of our time.”

I try to frown. Fight my urges. Tell myself, again, tell the _thing_ inside my skull, that I don't want you, I don't need you, you don't matter.

But you've already sauntered over and deposited yourself on my lap, hands in my hair, looking right into me before you kiss me.

And this time, it's me on top of you, on my desk.

. . .

That night, again I try to fight myself. _You don't matter to me_. I repeat, like a mantra, a prayer. _You don't matter_. In the hope that maybe the gods will take pity on me and make it true.

_I don't want you, I don't need you, you don't matter._

But as you slide into bed beside me, wrapping your arms around me and laying your head on my chest, I feel like I'm home. Your weight on my chest is warm and welcome. And just when I thought things couldn't get more perfect you sigh contentedly, and say you love me.

And I just can't help myself. I just have to kiss you, push my tongue into your welcoming mouth. Just have to shove you down onto your back and cover your body with mine, setting a fire inside your body with my lips, my tongue, my hands on your skin... have to kiss and suck on your neck, hands slowly undressing you. Preparing you without much thought other than the foresight to reach for the lube we keep on the bedside table. Your lips softly parting and a gasp escaping you as I slide my fingers in, one by one. Twisting and stretching so you'll be comfortable. Usually I'd linger in these moments, to tease you, but I'm impatient tonight. So once I'm done with my fingers, I give you another impassioned kiss.

You moan into me, and spread your legs for me. Ready. Waiting. Eager. Your voice calling out breathlessly, “Hurry,”

And I push into you with a grunt. Setting a relentless pace from the get go. Pleasure surging through my whole being with the sensation of being inside you. Listening to you gasp and call my name, “Sousuke, Sousuke, Sousuke...”, your arms and legs around me as I fill you completely.

You cry my name again, as we share a sweet release and I empty myself into you. After a few moments used to catch our breath again, we separate and lie in a tangle together. You curl up to me, sigh out you love me again.

And suddenly you matter so much.

And the monster knows I reciprocate. And it'll use this against me. Will hurt you to get to me.

 _I'll make you kill him, Sousuke._ He says. An invisible enemy I don't know how to fight. _If you don't do as I say, I'll destroy him and make you watch._

Which is why it's for the best that we part ways. Like we should have done so very many years ago.

Because darkness infects. It damages. It taints. Corrupts. Spreads like disease. And I don't want it to infect you, too. Dim, or worse, drown out your light.

 _For the best,_ I tell myself. _It's for the best if I just stay away._

And looking at you, fast asleep beside me, pale skin aglow in the moonlight filtering in through our window, I know I must.

Because darkness infects. And I want to keep you safe. Even from a monster that wears my skin and speaks with my voice, that can use me to hurt you.

. . .

 _I'll cut you off tomorrow night,_ I promise. Again. Three nights later in the same situation. Still splattered with your cum with you asleep in my arms again. We'll bathe together. We'll go to work together. And after, I'll take you to the human world and rip your heart out there, to spare you the gossips here, and give you a few days leave to allow you to process and grieve the loss of me in private. Until then, I'll make the most of this.

I breathe out a sigh, hold you close, and breathe you in. Enjoying the feel of you in my arms. Your naked body pressed against mine. You murmuring my name in your sleep. Your voice soft, breathless.

“Sousuke...”

And I know I will not sleep tonight, either.

. . .

I know I should walk away now and end it. I should have done it years, decades ago to be fair. Because I know its selfish to keep leading you along this way. But I couldn't. When I'd screwed together enough courage to do it, to deliver you the fatal gunshot, my trigger finger trembling in the moment- you smiled brightly at me, “Sousuke!” and all the words I planned to say, wanted to say, bottlenecked in my throat. Got stuck. Are still stuck. Will be stuck forever.

I thought I could do this.

I can't.

And the monster inside my skull just laughs and laughs and laughs.

_Who are you fucking kidding, Sousuke? You aren't fooling anyone._

. . .

But I remember I took you to the human world anyway. It was decades ago, but I still remember it.

I'd surprised you with a theatre trip, because I'd learnt you liked musicals. One of Matsumoto's little hints she gave me. It was the fourteenth of March, and the spring flowers were already blooming. Daffodils. Tulips. In our language: _new beginnings_ and _declarations of love_ respectively. I vividly remember being happy, for the first time in what had felt like eternity. Particularly with your hand in mine, in a cafe drinking tea, having dinner, watching the show, walking in the nighttime air, with your hand glued to mine.

You smiled at me, and I couldn't help but admire the way you looked. Beautiful in the moonlight, grinning like the Cheshire cat, silver hair and pale skin a lovely contrast with the darkness. Your lean form flattered with your choice of attire: a fitted grey suit and light blue shirt. With me in black and a white shirt.

 _Dress nice._ I'd said. _I'm taking you out somewhere formal._

You'd followed my instructions to the letter. My words failed me when I saw you.

I remember laughing a lot that evening, simply because you were. You'd linked your fingers with mine and teased me. I pulled your body close to mine and kissed you. We were happy. I was happy. So much so I completely forgot my promise to myself, forgot the voice, forgot everything – everything but you. I was drunk and you were tipsy yourself, and I was a giddy idiot, very much in love.

You were too, so your next suggestion shouldn't have come as a surprise.

“Sousuke, let's get married!”

I'd stopped in my tracks, struck dumb. You couldn't have known at the time how much I'd wanted, selfishly, to put a ring on your beautiful finger. And watch you proudly admire the cold silver.

I'd wanted to say no. 'No' is what I meant. But somehow 'yes' is what I said. Because I'm stupid. Because I'm a fool.

“C'mon then!” you said, tugging me forwards.

“What? Now?” I asked dumbly.

“Yes, now!” you grinned at me, pulling me along. All excitement and fun. “C'mon!”

And so it was that I let you drag me to that church and wed you.

“ _I look a mess,”_ you whispered to me, standing at the altar beside me, trying not to look at the officiator and running a hand through your hair nervously. Every inch my partner, my lover, my equal. Everything I'd ever wanted. Nerves aside.

“ _Shut up. You look perfect,”_ I answered. Because you _were_ perfect. Well, to me you were anyway. It made you smile shyly, appreciatively, and after that we made our vows and pledged eternity to each other.

You were nervous, but determined, reassured by my hands in yours, all the love I held for you. And after I'd said my lines, you sank into happiness and your mirroring words were a soft contented sigh.

“ _I do.”_

And you smiled at me again, content and happy. Like all was right with the world.

I just thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

. . .

That night comes back to me in vivid detail as I dream. I feel your lips on mine the very _moment_ our hotel room door clicked shut behind us. Your hands grabbing my collar and shoving my back against the wall, tongue plundering my mouth for all it was worth. My hands running up your waist and guiding us, still engaged in passionate tongue wrestling, towards the bed. My hands steadily undressing you as they had a thousand times before. You however, are much more impatient. Practically yanking my trousers off me and ripping my shirt open and scattering the buttons onto the floor. My best shirt. But in the heat of passion, I don't care. All that matters is your hands running over my exposed chest, setting fires inside my skin. Giving more aptness to the fleur de lis on the table beside the bed. A flower that in our language means: ' _I burn_ '.

I'd already taken the liberty of pairing it with jonquil in an earlier offering to you. Jonquil for _desire._

Together: 'I burn with desire for you.'

I push you down onto the bed, pinning you with my body and shoving my tongue into your mouth. I moan into your mouth and enjoy the way you melt for me. You whimper softly, your fingers tangled in my hair, then take me completely off guard and quickly roll and push me down so you're on top of me. Grinning down at me before claiming my lips again. Dominating, controlling. Passionate. And I become depraved by your kiss. Hands sliding down across the skin of your back and moving southwards to squeeze your firm ass. Feeling you melt into my arms, moaning softly.

I quietly disengage my lips from yours and suck on my own fingers and begin tracing a gentle line along your spine with them until I find what I seek. My hardness pushing against your thigh.

I push in one finger, two, three... until you gasp and moan when I find what I've been searching for.

“ _Ah, there...”_

And I know you're ready.

I remove my fingers and you move, hands pushing me down again. You shift to straddle me, and I watch you breathe in, close your eyes, and impale yourself upon me with a groan.

My head lolls back and I moan with the intense pleasure. You feel so good and so tight I can't help but moan. You look down at me, still for a moment, taking me in. And the sight of you makes my breath _hitch,_

“ _Fuck, you're beautiful.”_

You answered me with only a smirk, and then moving as one, we consummated our union. You rolled your hips slowly, teasingly, slowly building up a demanding pace. Panting, gasping, moaning, calling my name over and over. Your hands on my chest, my bare skin, setting fires wherever you touched. You were drunk on wine and love and _me_ , and you rode me relentlessly, with my hands on your hips, fucking me into the mattress.

_A fantasy come to life right before my eyes._

And I want to never wake from this delusion. Want you to stay with me here in this facade...

You climax with a cry of my name, and I with yours on my lips, and after we are both empty and sated, you curl yourself around me to sleep. Telling me you love me. And I echo the sentiment.

_And nothing else matters, just as long as you hold me, and love me completely._

_. . ._

I wake in the night and shake the memory away.

_I don't want you I don't need you. I'll forget you._

I don't know who I'm trying to convince anymore.

But in the end I somehow drift back off to sleep.

. . .

I don't know why I dreamt of that night again. But the sun, and reality, dawned again all too soon, and I woke to face another day. Face the voice again.

_You know you don't deserve him, right?_

He's right. I don't.

But maybe it's not too late... maybe I haven't entrenched myself so deeply into your life. Maybe you could still be happy with someone else.

I've seen the way Kira looks at you. I know you'd be better off with him. He is sweet, innocent, everything I am not. He is pure. I am tainted. I am corrupted. And darkness infects...

Kira can freely give you the love you deserve. He could love you, deeply, sweetly, truly. In all the ways I can't.

Maybe he could make you happy. If only I could convince myself to let you go. Because as much as I love you, I cannot give that love freely without fear of you coming to harm. Or being killed. Or maimed or tortured, or whatever methods of pain infliction the monster decides to put you through – using my two hands - if I don't obey.

Because darkness infects, and nobody involved with me will emerge unscathed. Best for you to get out now, while you still can.

_If you can._

And then maybe one day I'll get to see your smile, in the arms of someone who loves you... like I do. Someone who deserves you. Someone who makes you happy.

But if I told you this, any of this you'd only pout and cross your arms and protest. Argue with me loudly. You did, once.

“ _Why me, when there's so many better for you who can make you happy?”_ I asked you.

You just frowned and pouted adorably. _“But **you** make me happy.”_

Though I smile at the thought of this, I still don't know why you chose me, of all the people in the world better than I am.

But I'm not good for you. I know it, the monster knows it... and somewhere deeply buried, you must know it too.

It'll kill me, driving you away. Making you stop loving me. _Kill me._ I know I'll be dragged into the darkness with no hope of ever escaping it. The monster would take me over completely, and there would be no end to the destruction. No hope of me ever returning. But... better I go down alone than dragging you down with me.

I just can't do that to you. You matter too much.

But you make me happy, and it's hard to let you go.

. . .

Your words still resonate inside me, days later.

_You make me happy._

And I feel another pang of guilt for dragging this out. For being too much of a coward to tell you that _I don't want you, I don't need you, you don't matter to me. Pack your things and leave. I don't love you._

They were words I just couldn't say.

Words that I should say. If it isn't too late. Hopefully it isn't too late. Hopefully there's still time.

. . .

Time passed. I tried to retreat inwards, grow distant from you, but it never seemed to work. You'd give me a smile and my resolve would become dust. You look up at me from your book one day and ask, “Wanna go see the fireworks?”

“Sure,” I smile. “Why not?”

You smile at me again at this, all eagerness and excitement, and I don't know whether to feel happy or guilty.

“C'mon then!” you say, setting down your book and dragging me by the hand to the door. “S'gonna start soon!”

I think I'll choose to be happy today.

. . .

We watch the fireworks together. Well, you watch the fireworks. I watch you. And I remember that one autumn night you made me truly happy. November fifth. On a night like this – just like this – after the fireworks display all those years ago. When you told me you loved me that first time. I crushed you to me just so you wouldn't see me come apart. See my mask slip and betray my joy.

We made love for the first time that night.

I wish it was the only time.

But you're a drug. You're a drug and there's no detox. You're too far and too deep inside my system. And just one night is not enough.

I don't think it will ever be enough.

I sigh and turn my attention back to the sky.

“Tha' one's pretty.” you say to me.

“Yes,” I smile, “It is.”

. . .

The walk home was peaceful, quiet. Though it is a comfortable silence.

“Hey, Sou,” you ask, somewhat uncertain. “Will we always be together?”

And I smile. My hand in yours. Returning your squeeze.

“Yes. We'll always be so perfectly happy, just like this.”

I watch as you smile and warmth spreads through me. I don't know who I am trying to convince anymore.

Your returning smile is gentle, soft, full of love for me as you nod. “Then let's be together always.”

“Yes.” I agree. “let's always be together.”

The hellish voice laughs and calls me a liar, and I know I am running out of time.

. . .

You call to me while I'm working at my desk some months later. I'm trying to scrape together what little courage I can to leave you, and it isn't working. The monster has been making more demands, more threats on your life, promising more torture for you...

_Cut his fingers off, blind him, make him bleed, and your hands will do all of it..._

And I can't. I can't risk that. I won't risk that. I'd die first.

“Aizen-sama?”

“Hm?”

“Ya okay? Ya seem distracted...”

“Ah, I was just thinking...”

“Oh, 'bout what?”

I open my mouth. Close it. Reconsider telling you. “It doesn't matter.”

You frown, seemingly unsatisfied with my answer. I know you are disappointed. I've been distant, cold with you, lately. But this is for the best. Best I detangle myself from your life now.

But say nothing. “'Kay.” You kiss me on the cheek, “See ya a' home then. Dun be too late.”

“I won't. I promise.”

I watch you go, and after a time alone, I wonder. How can I push you away from me?

Momo enters the office, having seen me sitting morose at my desk after hours. Deep in my thoughts, knowing you're waiting for me at home. A place I want to be, but can't.

“Aizen taichou...” she ventures, “Is something wrong?”

I look up at her, I see my answer, I lie.

And I break my promise to you.


End file.
